though my account of it be but meagre.



SCOTLAND.--GLASGOW.


May 10th.--Last Friday, May 2d, I took the rail, with Mr. Bowman, from
the Lime Street station, for Glasgow. There was nothing of much interest
along the road, except that, when we got beyond Penrith, we saw snow on
the tops of some of the hills. Twilight came on as we were entering
Scotland; and I have only a recollection of bleak and bare hills and
villages dimly seen, until, nearing Glasgow, we saw the red blaze of
furnace-lights at frequent iron-founderies. We put up at the Queen's
Hotel, where we arrived about ten o'clock; a better hotel than I have
anywhere found in England,--new, well arranged, and with brisk
attendance.

In the morning I rambled largely about Glasgow, and found it to be
chiefly a modern-built city, with streets mostly wide and regular, and
handsome houses and public edifices of a dark gray stone. In front of
our hotel, in an enclosed green space, stands a tall column surmounted by
a statue of Sir Walter Scott,--a good statue, I should think, as
conveying the air and personal aspect of the man. There is a bronze
equestrian statue of the Queen in one of the streets, and one or two more
equestrian or other statues of eminent persons. I passed through the
Trongate and the Gallow-Gate, and visited the Salt-Market, and saw the
steeple of the Tolbooth, all of which Scott has made interesting; and I
went through the gate of the University, and penetrated into its enclosed
courts, round which the College edifices are built. They are not Gothic,